


Aziraphales Halloween

by Blackrayvn



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Kiss, Halloween, Heaven, Hugs, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: Aziraphale loves Halloween eventhough he is an angel andprobably shouldn't, but he can'thelp himself.   Feeling a shiftin his bookshop, he closes the shoponly to find Crowley, who giveshim a warning.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Angels (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Lilith (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Lilith (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Death (Good Omens), Crowley & Lilith (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Aziraphales Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> No triggers that I can think of.
> 
> Just a spooky yet fluffy story!

_**Aziraphale's Halloween** _

**[PLAYLIST FOR AZIRAPHALES HALLOWEEN - CLICK](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6o4Dxl6fbmX1Fih4jcEpwg) **

Halloween was around the corner, and Aziraphale decorated the shop here and there, lights twinkled in oranges, reds, and greens, a holiday that an angel truly shouldn't celebrate. Still, there was candy, children, and carved pumpkins about. To him, it was beautiful, the lights, the costumes, the happy souls that came to his door, handing out the candy to expectant and innocently love-filled children.

Crowley always was at the bookshop on Halloween, he loved children, and even though he wouldn't openly admit it, he caused mischief to the children's delight. Monsters would crawl from the ground and pop into a shower of candy. The parents often looked frightened, yet the children knew, they looked at Crowley with an odd kind of love, almost as if they knew he would keep them safe.

The joy that flowed from the children and their loving parents filled Aziraphale's immortal soul. This was one of the few occasions he could let his wings be seen. To be seen by humans and to hear how beautiful he truly was, even if they thought it was only a costume, Aziraphale knew it wasn't. A sudden shift in the bookshop's air drew Aziraphale's attention back inside, leaving the candy bowl just outside the door.

Smelling the air, Aziraphale could smell Crowley; his scent was one that calmed, relaxed him, made him feel safe, made his heart sing even if it was only himself that knew. This, though, was different, his scent was off, Aziraphale could feel and smell what one might call fear, evil, a touch of Hell brought into his shop.

Quickly heading for the source of this particular scent, wings unfurled, a sword from King Arthur held tightly in his hand, erupted into flames, a trick Aziraphale had learned after his sword disappeared.

Running between the bookshop shelves, Aziraphale ran, snapping his fingers as books started to drop off shelves. Stopping, Aziraphale felt the floor of his shop begin to rumble; looking up, he could see the bookshelves swaying, casting shadows of flames to whatever was in the shop; he had to find it.

Turning one final corner, there in the middle of the room where Crowley and Aziraphale would partake in wine, whiskey, and the joy of each other's comfort and companionship. Aziraphale always berated himself for not telling Crowley how he truly felt, how much he loved him, how Aziraphale wanted to spend eternity with him. An angel should be able to be honest about love, it was built into them, yet he still hadn't told Crowley, a regret he was living with.

Looking and slowly approaching was Crowley, sleek ebony wings unfurled into this dimension, hidden stars danced within those ebony wings. Aziraphale inadvertently reached out to touch them; their beauty was beyond reproach. Perfectly preened, beautiful to behold, looking back at his own, Aziraphale couldn't complain, but he truly wished he could get his wings to shine like Crowleys.

Crowley stood there looking down at the wooden floorboards, an aura of black mist encircled and danced around him. Aziraphale had lit candles, one in each window, granted it was a Christmas tradition, he felt as though it gave his shop a touch of mystery. As he looked at Crowley, the candlelight danced over his feature, goldens eyes lit with stars, shadows chased candlelight across the shop.

"Crowley?"

"Don't, Angel, there is nothing you can do tonight; it's beyond your ability."

Crowley turned his wings, dragging slightly on the oaken floorboards, a dragging sound followed Crowley as he walked. Taking just a step closer to Aziraphale.

"What do you mean beyond my ability Crowley, what's going on."

Aziraphale took another step forward, his spine straightening just that much more. What did Crowley mean not within his ability? He was a Principality for God's sake.

"I mean what I said, Aziraphale, this is the only warning they will let me give you, everything has ears now, it's a night for Hell, a night of demons and freedom of their restraints. Even mine."

Crowley looked at Aziraphale. A sadness crossed his features, pain-filled his eyes. Reaching out instinctually, Aziraphale went to place his hand on Crowley's face, confusion decidedly moving into Aziraphale countenance.

"Don't try to stop what is happening, just listen to me. You will be visited by three demons, each with a message for you, each with regret. Angels cannot regret, I will escort them to you...tonight I am their guide."

Crowley stepped back from Aziraphale's hand, a touch that would just cause him more pain; after six thousand years, the thought of that touch brought pain, despair, knowing that it would be once and nothing more.

Looking away from Aziraphale, Crowley spread his wings knocking bookshelves and books to the floor. Aziraphale simply watched, concerned about what was to come; what regret did he have? He couldn't think of any, at least none he would admit, admit to Crowley anyway.

Just as soon as Crowley arrived, Aziraphale watched him disappear into the shadow light of the candles. Looking at the now empty room Aziraphale went for a whiskey, he needed it, what was going on, why were demons and all else running amuck, amuck, amuck...

Aziraphale slammed his sword into the wooden floorboards; something about this was dragging the Principality in him to the surface. He could feel the weight of his wings fully unfurling into this dimension, his want of Crowley, his worry of him dragging him down like chains of the bastille, but these were far worse, they burned.

Aziraphale watched the flames on the sword turn the floorboard blacken under it, with a snap, the bookshop closed, the windows closed their blinds, the doors locked on their own. The lights were turned off. Only the light of the sword flickered against the bookshop walls. Aziraphale watched the flames dance, even lifting his hands to make the fire dance, watching them chase shadows and darkness from the walls and corners.

Blue eyes ignited in the darkness of the shop, eyes begot eyes as Aziraphale let the Principality in him out. Slowly he waited, sitting in his chair, as he moved for his whiskey, his wings knocking bookcases over, not caring in this form, Aziraphale was worried about only one being, and he wasn't here. The candles all ignited without Aziraphale's say so, lighting platinum locks, as something else slithered into the bookshop, led by Crowley whose wings dragged behind him, the sound of tearing following him...

Crowley touched Aziraphale's arm turning the Angel instantly, first seeing Crowley within the shadows of the candles, the light being devoured by the mist around him, how sad he looked, then as his eyes glanced over his Demon and followed the chain around Crowley's neck. Reaching out to grab the chain, Aziraphale saw behind Crowley a demon, holding the chain. The Demon yanked on the chain dragging Crowley back, and then before Aziraphale could do anything, Crowley was gone; only the devil remained.

"Who are you, where is Crowley, what have you done with him?"

"It doesn't matter who or what I am; what matters is what you once were. You have forgotten and because of that caught the attention of Hell itself."

"I caught the attention of Hell? I am a Principality, so wouldn't that be normal?"

"Under normal circumstances, maybe, but no, you have managed to cause more pain and torment than even we could."

The Demon stood there looking at Aziraphale with jet black eyes, no soul, nothing for Aziraphale to read. Aziraphale simply watched his mouth closing waiting, he honestly had no idea of what he could have done.

"I only do miracles, I make things better for humans, what could I have done.?"

The Demon looked at him irritatedly; taking a step forward, he held out his hand. Waiting for Aziraphale to take it.

"Take my hand Aziraphale, you have forgotten what you have done, what you once were, too long have you been on Earth. You have forgotten before the fall, and you need to remember, Hell can't take the weight of the pain that you have created, and you know what it is, you have not taken responsibility for what you have done."

Aziraphale said nothing but looked at the burnt clawed hand held out for him, a quick look between the blackened eyes and the hand. Aziraphale reached out, taking it into his hand, hating the feeling of the hand he held onto. Somehow feeling the pain of the fall that this Angel went through. Aziraphale gritted his teeth; the Demon smirked, snapping his fingers.

Aziraphale looked around at the bright white and gold spires, Heaven before the fall, long before the fall. Looking back at the Demon, who was now a beautiful angel. Hair of golden curls, eyes of the bluest oceans looked back at Aziraphale, it was easy after six thousand years to forget what once was. Aziraphale had his breath taken for a moment as he realized what the fall had genuinely done to the angels that fell.

Slowly realizing that these demons were once angels and loved by God, to see them now hit Aziraphale's heart like a bomb. Holding back tears as he looked around a Heaven that was complete, before the war, when all were loved.

"Why have you brought me here?"

"You need to remember Aziraphale, remember who we once were. I am of Angel's past before we fell, we still remember, we still feel the pain, we still long for her love that was ripped from us, but you are able to cause even more pain on Earth because you don't remember."

Aziraphale watched as the Heavens suddenly became busy, angels walking here and there, creating things for Earth. It was then as spiraling stars lifted up and into the skies, then stardust of all colors whipping around and lifting, the first nebula. Aziraphale followed the sparkling stardust to an angel that was now creating flowers.

Tilting his head, Aziraphale was dragged tripping over his own feet, stopping within a few feet of this Angel. Wanting so badly to reach out and touch the flaming red locks of hair, twisting into curls. A smile to end the ages, cheeks dusted with freckles and with a hint of blush as another angel came to his side.

"Watch Aziraphale, remember..."

"That's me, isn't it?"

Aziraphale watched as the Angel that came to the side of the one creating stars and galaxies carried a flaming sword. Aziraphale watched, knowing that was him, what was he supposed to remember? It was as he observed that the other angels left them, and as he watched, the Angel placed his sword down, turning to face the other, slid his hand into the flaming red curls of a Seraphim, flaming wings unfurled as Aziraphale kissed them, pulling them to him.

Aziraphale gasped as he watched; why didn't he remember this? He watched as the two kissed, watched as the blush danced across the bridge of his nose, the rest dancing across the other's face. Watched as the flames grew brighter at Aziraphale's touch, wrapping around them. Feeling the pull of his hand, he pulled against it; he needed to see who that was, what he was.

"Come now, Aziraphale, you have seen that it is time to see the next..."

"NO! I need to know who that is...Why don't I remember?"

Aziraphale pulled against the Angel, as he did, an almost silent whisper from his own lips from the past, ~Zahariel...~

Gasping for air he didn't need at the sound of that name, he started to remember. A violent pull of his arm dragged him to another time in Heaven, things looked slightly different, still full of love, but God was present here, standing at the front of all the angels of Heaven.

Looking down from her glory, Aziraphale saw himself and the other Angel, Zahariel; she was blessing them, then she started to speak. Aziraphale listened intently to hear every word that was more of a whisper than actually speaking. Finally, hearing her inside his head, he could hear her now.

"To my angels, your free will should show you who your other half is, let this joining be known and remembered always, it is an eternity in the bonding, never to be apart. Let Principality Aziraphale of the Cherubim and Seraphim Zahariel be an example of what a soul mate is. Never to be apart no matter the reason, a bond never to be broken, for any reason, that bond will always be there, by my word. Be free, find love, bonding is forever. You understand this Aziraphale, Zahariel, for all eternity you will be bonded."

Aziraphale felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest, falling to his knees, he watched. Bonded, he had been blessed by God for eternity. What happened, looking up at the Angel of the Past, looked down at him. Holding his hand, he waited. Aziraphale reached up as tears ran down his face.

"Take me back, I can't..."

"There is one last moment from the past I can show you, be ready, Aziraphale, it is the most difficult."

"Please, my heart cannot take anymore, I had a soulmate, I had a bond.."

The Demon made the air around them shimmer until fire surrounded them, the sounds of fighting and then, the screams of those that had fallen and those that were being pulled into the abyss that would become Hell. Aziraphale stood looking out of the battlefield of angels, some dead, dying, fighting. Fighting each other, Aziraphale vaguely remembered this.

Aziraphale remembered his sword, remembered fighting against his brothers and sisters. Remembered crying with each slice of his blade, with every command he gave. Then as Aziraphale watched, he saw himself with his wings outstretched, covered with eyes, the lion, the eagle all of him in his true form, fighting his own kind, flaming sword in one hand racing throwing his shield with the other as he raced towards something, someone.

"Look there being swallowed by the ground Aziraphale, that is where your memory ends, watch and you will see why you cannot remember, but you must, Hell, cannot take the pain this moment brings with it. It is too much of a memory that we all saw as we fell. Our champion and our healer being ripped apart, by a mistake, a question, the pain of this is too painful to remember."

Aziraphale looked on, seeing his shield being thrown, the flaming sword being driven into the ground, his hand reaching for someone. He could see as his hands grabbed for each other as an angel was being pulled down, taking a few steps closer. The smoke cleared for a moment, Zahariel, that was who he was holding onto.

Aziraphale was holding onto him, his wings blackening as they held onto each other. His screams were louder than Zahariels as he pulled, using his wings to help pull, trying to keep Zahariel from falling. His mate, his bond, his link to an eternity of never being alone. Looking on, he saw the moment when Zahariel let go, he heard the words.

"Let go, Aziraphale, you can't save me, I didn't ask for this, I was tricked...please remember me."

"No, Zahariel, I am not letting go; you can't go..please God, don't do this. please, mother.."

"Let go, my love, let me go..."

Aziraphale watched on as Zahariel fell, saw his beautiful wings turn black like soot, and heard the screams as he was burned from the inside out, changing him forever, ripping the mother's love from him as his eyes changed. Gasping, the eyes, he knew those eyes.

'It is time to go back now, Aziraphale. My time is up."

"No, no, we have to save him, we can do that."

"No, Aziraphale, we can't. These are memories of a time long ago that you have forgotten because that was what the mother wanted. You are bonded, that can never be broken, by her own rules. Making you forget was easier and more painful for the fallen."

Aziraphale started to ask for more time but quickly saw the shimmer, and the bookshop came into view. The Demon was back, his beauty gone, eyes of soulless black filled his face.

"Two more demons will come to visit you, just a warning, Lilith is coming to you next, I would suggest being on your best behavior."

"I, why would she..."

Aziraphale looked at the empty space in front of him. Gone was the nameless one though he felt as though he should have remembered him; something about him resonated with him. Were these angels he once knew? Why couldn't he remember his bonding with Zahariel? Where was he?

Trying to pull his wings back, he found he couldn't, so he carefully dropped into his chair; Aziraphale picked his whiskey back up, downing his glass contents in one fell gulp. Snapping his fingers to fill the glass, he couldn't move, his heart hurt. So many thoughts were going through his mind, those eyes, even though he couldn't see them perfectly, he saw the change, caught the hint of gold before he was torn away.

His mind overflowing with memories that were slowly coming to him, Aziraphale closed his eyes; he needed to sleep. This was all too much at once, and now there would be Lilith coming. Memories were the least of his worries; Lilith never fell; she was thrown out because of Adam.

Lilith, one of the most beautiful angels, one of the first, the strongest, not bowing to God or Adam, she was thrown from Heavens graces, to always feel the love that the mother would never answer.

Restless sleep came to him, his eyes closed, the memory of a first kiss, of touching the softest of curls. Remembering the color, the only Angel with flame-red hair, and he was his, bonded for eternity. Zahariel was his, the stars he loved were all made by his mate, and he had been ripped from him, but the bond remained.

"GET UP!"

Aziraphale jumped out of his chair, knocking over the whiskey, dropping a few books to the floor, spinning towards the voice, knocked over more bookcases. Rubbing his eyes, clearing his throat, and trying to sound like this was an everyday occurrence.

"I'm up, I'm up!"

"Good, stay that way."

Aziraphale looked for Crowley only to see chains around his neck, though this time they were golden threads, Sparkling and shimmering with something, twirling around Crowley like a force to be cherished. It wasn't like the first chain that had pulled Crowley. This one danced, sang of something, and kept Crowley wrapped within it. As Aziraphale looked, even though the threads pulled at Aziraphale, they caused Crowley's pain as he huddled within them.

Crowley looked up at Aziraphale, whimpering before disappearing back into the black mist that surrounded him with a pull of the golden threads. Aziraphale stepped forward only to be shoved back into his chair by Lilith.

"Won't be having any of that now, will we."

Aziraphale said not a word but watched Lilith closely, answering only what was asked of him. Not even as a Principality did he feel like tangling with Lilith; it would be a good fight, but one that would end badly for both.

"Well, get up, and let's get this going. This is how this works, I will bring you to the places of now, because you, my friend, are oblivious, and rather well, let's face it, you aren't courageous when it comes to you. However, the only reason I volunteered to come do this well is that you would most certainly die for one of our own; for that reason, you have my respect, don't get cocky. I will still knock you on your angelic ass."

Lilith smirked, dragging Aziraphale up from the chair, and as he began to complain, Lilith pushed him backward.

The world around him shimmered again. Waiting for it to stop, Aziraphale gathered himself, finding his footing. Looking around, he smiled.

"This is Crowley's flat; why would we be here?"

"Watch Aziraphale."

Aziraphale looked on, movement caught his eyes, it was him, a blush ran over his face.

"Oh, good lord, do I have to see this?"

"Why, oh, why would you stand outside Crowley's flat and debate for two hours if you should knock on his door?"

Aziraphale was thoroughly embarrassed; this just wouldn't do. Still, he knew there was nothing he could do; this was, in fact, beyond his ability. Still, he wasn't sure how any of this was happening.

"Let's see what Crowley was doing, shall we, or better yet."

With another push, Aziraphale found himself back in his bookshop, thinking it was now he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh dear, Aziraphale, this isn't your now; I mean it is now, but just watch."

Aziraphale watched; before long, he saw himself come out from behind the bookshelves, looking down at the mobile that Crowley had gotten him. Watched as he saw himself dialing the number over and over again but never hitting the call button. Mumbling to himself about Crowley.

"You know, Crowley does the same thing; you both are rather pathetic. Let's watch outside your window, one more push, dear."

With a push this time, Aziraphale lost his footing, landing on his arse just outside the bookshop. He stayed down and looked on. Lilith shook her head at the Principality.

"Watch, oh look, its a Bentley with a demon in it, just at the corner down the street, enough so he can see you in the shop and you looking down at the Bentley..."

Lilith shook her head.

"Do you know whats going on yet Aziraphale, have you put the pieces together?"

Aziraphale looked at Lilith, his heartbreaking in his chest, his mind whirling with thoughts and memories he long since lost. Before he could move, another push put him in the bookshop, but as soon as the bookshop came into view, Lilith snapped, and he was asleep. His mind shut off, but there was still one more to come.

Sleeplessness took over Aziraphale. Though he slept, it was reliving parts of his long life that he had long since forgotten. Heaven came into view, before the war, he felt love, he felt content, happy. He was in love, a bonded love, something he would always have, that smile that was only for him; Aziraphale knew that smile, but from now and as his vast mind worked, he realized he had known that smile for over six thousand years...

His bedroom grew very cold, waking as he shivered and saw the breath he didn't need turn into frosty smoke. Looking around the room, he saw Death; there didn't need to be an introduction; everyone knew who Death was; they were the end and beginning of all things. Aziraphale's wings pulled in close to his body, a visage of respect towards Death, the only being that could end whom they chose, with God's permission.

A beautiful being of no gender, a being of no anything, they chose to be that way, they were Death, and that was enough. Slowly Aziraphale walked to them, waiting quietly, an arm was raised and pointed back towards the bed. Aziraphale wasn't sure what he was to do.

"Do you want me to go back to bed?"

"No, just watch Aziraphale, it will come on its own. Death doesn't need to move, Death comes to all on its very own, but yours is slightly different."

"Wait, I can't die, I'm an angel, a Principality."

"Just watch Aziraphale."

Aziraphale looked for Crowley, but he was nowhere to be seen, his eyes fixated on something far off in the distance. The alley next to his bookshop, crying in the alley was Crowley, the golden chains were no longer chains but ripped and shattered golden threads wrapping around him. Reaching towards the bookshop, devastated golden threads tried to go through the brick walls only to be held back by something, a shield of protection, not of Aziraphale's doing.

Aziraphale went to reach for Crowley, his tears, Crowley didn't cry even at the worst of times, what was happening, the golden threads, looking broken and ragged, their light glimmering and dimming. Death placed a boney hand on Aziraphale's shoulder, stopping him immediately, and as he watched, Crowley opened the thermos.

Aziraphale started to fight against Death's hand; Crowley looked at it again, placing the cover back on, hugging it to his chest. Standing, Crowley walked into the bookshop. Death raised his hand, taking away the front of the bookshop; it was empty, not a book to be found, just Crowley in the middle, curled into a ball.

"What happened, where are my books, where am I?"

"Watch. You have time for the moment."

Aziraphale watched as Crowley pulled himself off the floor and dragged himself up the stairs to Aziraphale's bedroom. Only a bed remained, one that Crowley crawled into, it was Aziraphales bed, but he was still gone.

Crying was all Aziraphale could hear. It echoed in his ears. Oh, how he wanted to run to Crowley, tell him everything, take away his pain.

"Wait, his pain. I'm causing Crowley pain?"

Death smiled under his hood. A flash of swirling blues and golds lit Death's face; Aziraphale looked away and back to Crowley.

"You are there, Aziraphale, you fell in a battle against demons, the second coming of satan happened because of what you don't remember, and the pain you cause without knowing. Only you can save him, Aziraphale. Only you both can stop what's coming."

Death pointed to where he had fallen; Crowley had flowers and plants surrounding the area that he had dragged him to, away from the battle, where he had finally died in Crowley's arms.

Aziraphale held his hand to his chest, tears shimmered and fell from his eyes as the bookshop slowly came back into view. Looking down at his hands, he could see the same golden threads coming from his heart, from somewhere deep in his chest.

Death waited as Aziraphale slowly thought over everything.

"Can I fix this? Is this how it is going to end, no matter what?"

"Nothing is certain, Aziraphale, the only certain thing is the pain that your loss of memory causes, and in the end, the loneliness of it all, your missing half will eat at you till the war happens and you won't truly care. You need to be the Angel you always have been, a warrior, a commander, a protector and a being of love, a being that is bonded for eternity, remember Aziraphale before it is too late."

Aziraphale went to speak, only to be greeted by his bookshop's emptiness, hearing Crowley's cries as he fixed and watered the plants and flowers. It was more than Aziraphale could take, and within his corporal form, everything stopped; he fainted, feeling the ground catch him, he breathed out as his eyes closed.

The sound of the bookshop's bell woke Aziraphale, grumbling to himself, slowly opening his eyes and finding himself on the couch, laying down. Confusion fell upon him as he looked around. Did that really happen? Was that indeed how his night went or was it a dream? From the front, he could hear his name; he knew that voice; it was Crowley, but wait, there was something else that was familiar.

"Hey Aziraphale, where are you? You were supposed to come to the pond to feed the ducks!"

Aziraphale sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to take away the webs of confusion, putting all he had seen and heard into something tangible.

"Couch, back room."

Aziraphale was lucky to even get those words out.

"Oh, wow, you look, well, not very much you, how much did you drink?"

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, slowly thoughts and memories were connecting as he saw and heard things. The light from the sun filtered in, lighting Crowley's hair. Flame red locks of curls...Aziraphale knew them well. Shaking his head, he heard Crowley speak again; he knew that voice.

"Are you alright, Aziraphale? Should I go, here you look like you need rest.....~let me go.~ I'll come back later to check on you."

Aziraphale heard those three words, he knew them; the last time he heard them was the last time he saw his mate or at least remembered. Reaching out, Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's wrist, his eyes still closed, letting the memories flow over him.

Crowley looked down, concern, worry took him, but as he tried to pull his wrist free, Aziraphale held on. He needed to hear it again; he needed to see Crowley's eyes.

"Let me go, Aziraphale, let me go so you can rest, ill come back later."

Aziraphale gasped at the recognition of those simple words. Standing from the couch, Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley. His eyes clear with his thoughts, he remembered, he remembered Crowley from now and before time existed. He remembered letting him go, remembered him falling, remembered forgetting.

Taking a step towards Crowley, Aziraphale could feel something within his chest, reaching out. Reaching out to touch Crowley, with a tilt of Aziraphale's head, he let go of Crowley's wrist, bringing his hands up, he reached for the glasses that hid the sun's beautiful eyes from view.

Crowley tried to take a step back away from Aziraphale.

"Please don't. Let me please."

Crowley hesitated a moment before standing his ground; a simple nod was all Aziraphale needed to reach up; placing his hands on the sides of the glasses, he took a deep breath calming himself, and slid them off. Crowley blinked at the light that was filtering in from the sun. Aziraphale closed and opened his eyes, looking into Crowleys eyes.

Aziraphale could swear Crowley's eyes were the very sun themselves. Looking into them, you would think one might get burned by their intensity, but as Aziraphale looked, there was something else there he hadn't seen before or something he had forgotten.

Two steps closer brought Crowley to take one step back.

"You never forgot, did you?"

Aziraphale asked regret in his voice, a longing that was filling him from years, centuries, millennia of not realizing, finally understanding the emptiness he always felt, except for when Crowley was there.

"Wot do you mean, never forgot, forgot what?"

Crowley tried to play it off, but Aziraphale knew now, remembered how they were, what they were, and for how long Crowley had been alone watching from the sidelines, watching his mate and not being able to tell him. For every time that Crowley had saved him, only for him not to remember. Giving him Holy Water, risking him, how many times, how many times had Crowley saved him.

Through flames and fires, floods, bombings, and books, he pulled him from the fires of The Great Library of Alexandria in Egypt. How he saved him from being whipped, so many times, Crowley had protected him a Principality, who didn't and couldn't remember his bonded mate. Barely remembering what he was, what he was made for.

Another step forward, towards his love, towards a lifetime of making it up to Crowley, to his Angel, to his Demon, to the one that made the very stars themselves.

Ever so slowly folding the glasses up and placing them on the couch, Aziraphale took that final step up to Crowley. Standing mere inches from one another, Aziraphale lovingly raised his hand, touching Crowley's face, back into the red curls he remembered so vividly now. He could feel how something within was fighting against that shield, that kept them apart.

"I remember Crowley, I remember you, I remember us."

Crowley looked at him, heard his words, and couldn't stop the tears that welled up and fell down his cheeks like diamonds sparkling under the sun's light. Aziraphale sighed, pulling him towards him, their lips brushed over one another. Tears fell from them, a step closer, and the kiss became a real thing, sighs, hands grasping and pulling them together, closer.

At that moment, as their kiss became all-consuming, whatever shield was in place was shattered into a million pieces. Both white and black wings unfurled as golden threads of bonding encircled them both. Everything was remembered, everything was felt.

The world fell away from them, falling into the celestial plane, both could see the other as they once were. Aziraphale remembered those eyes, the white of his wings, eyes of molten gold...

"Zahariel?"

"I haven't heard that name in a very long time Aziraphale."

"I don't care; I remember you then. Though I have known you for over six thousand years as Crowley. I love you, I remember you as you were then and as you are now. For all eternity, I will remember."

Crowley smiled that brilliant smile that Aziraphale remembered taking his breath away. Crowley reached out to Aziraphale, pulling him, spinning and twirling within the mist of the celestial plane, golden threads danced around them, healing in a cascade of colors and stars as their bond was renewed for all eternity.

As two celestials of both Heaven and Hell remembered and became one thread of forever, a mother smiled down on her creations. For her, it took long enough, and with the help of Hell, an end that shouldn't be wouldn't happen, and her two favorite creations would have their eternity together, and in the end, it was sealed with a kiss.


End file.
